World Doll Gone With The Wind Novels & Stories

Grace read the content of the tweet with trembling lips, and a hoarse voice almost choking, or did she know why she could be like that, there was clearly a feeling of horror that ran through her body as she read the tweet. The tweet is "Thank you to my friends who have cursed at me, hopefully we will meet again letter. The path i take is God's way." For a moment the were silent, no one dared to make a sound. Their lips seemed to be sewn up hard to open, they look each other, it wasn't the vengeful it used to be, but one filled with horror. As if something was telling them that a terrible event had happend, let's just say it was a hunch.

“You don’t mean anything to me,” he spoke dangerously, the tips of his fingers curling in my hairs as he jerked my neck back. “A mere toy that I’ll use whenever I want,” a breathless whimper escaping my lips. “Leave me-“ “Or what?” His lips stretched into a wide grin. “Tear me with your tiny claws?” He backed me into the wall behind me and leaned in closer, his grey eyes pierced my soul. “Remember, Amara, you exist solely for my pleasure.” He pulled my hair harder and my flesh burned the moment he nuzzled his face into my shoulder. I bet he could hear my heart beat accelerating with passing breath. His other arm circling to wrap around my waist, my heart pounded when his strong sandalwood essence in-filtered my senses. “Rhys-” “Shh…and for your punishment, I want you to bend over the wall and lift you skirt.” ****

After dating him for five years, my boyfriend, Jayden Porter, sends me 10 dollars. He asks me to buy our future matrimonial home with that money. That same day, he transfers 3 million dollars to his dream girl, Lina Doux, to buy her a grand detached villa in Centralis. I decided to break up with him out of frustration, but he accuses me of being greedy for money. "Your house is still livable, so why buy another one? When did you become such a gold digger?" "Lina and I are childhood friends, so what's wrong with me giving her money? "On the other hand, you're scheming to get your hands on my wealth despite us not being married yet. I'm so disappointed in you!" He turns around and proposes to Lina. Six years later, we encounter each other again in the werewolf kingdom based in Centralis—the Darkmoon Kingdom. He's about to become Centralis' Beta. Lina is by his side, wearing a haute couture dress. When he sees me covered in mud and rummaging through trash, he mocks me with disgust, "You looked down on 10 dollars back then, Emily Everhart, but now you're digging through trash cans like a beggar. "Do you think you'll be able to earn money by selling scraps? Even if you put on a sorry act in front of me, I won't show you any pity!" I glance coldly at him and continue to search for my pup's favorite ring. I had unknowingly discarded it like common trash. My pup, Cassidy Holstrom, is incredibly upset about it. As such, I have to find it quickly to cheer her up.

In the Philippines, there is a well-known and commonly practiced superstitious belief called pagpag, loosely translated as "to dust-off." One should never go home directly after visiting a wake or a funeral, because the ghost of the deceased might latch on and cause hauntings or attract evil. Now, where can Filipinos pagpag and lead spirits astray? It could be anywhere: a restaurant, a mall, that house down the street where your toxic ex lives… but usually, people opt for 7-Eleven convenience stores and nobody knows why. Follow the story of Akira Basilio: a part-time staff who mans the Luntian Street 7-Eleven on Thursday and Friday nights, which sounds completely normal; except Akira had the ability to communicate with the dead. She maintained a quiet life by keeping her sixth sense a secret from both the living and the departed, until a particularly persistent spirit flips everything into chaos when he entangles Akira in a hunt for a murderer.

"Mr. Harrison, this new toy has incredible suction skills. I guarantee it can fix your problem." Never in my wildest dreams would I expect that my husband would make me disguise myself as a sex doll to help treat his boss' impotence, all just to secure a promotion and a raise for himself.

When I first started at Serenity Hills, the head nurse told me coma patients paid well—but the job was messy and brutal. They could only get IV nutrition. Screw that up, and you're basically killing them. Today was day thirty of looking after the girl. Young. Gorgeous. Like always, I hit the nurse's station to grab her IV bags— But then I saw it. Thirty glucose bottles gone. IV nutrition? Still sealed. Chills shot down my spine.

Rated 18. Mature Content. Sahara Cooper grew up like a princess—protected by three powerful brothers who would destroy any man foolish enough to come near her. But what they don’t know is that her heart has long belonged to someone else: Leaf Morgan, her brother’s best friend, who is ten years older than her and the one man she is never supposed to love. To Leaf, Sahara has always been nothing more than a little girl he needed to protect. But the moment he starts seeing her as a woman, everything between loyalty and desire begins to crumble. Because loving Sahara Cooper doesn’t just mean breaking a rule—it means going against the entire Cooper family.

Nora Blythe

"It is an anxious, sometimes a dangerous thing to be a doll. Dolls cannot choose; they can only be chosen; they cannot 'do'; they can only be done by."

A dark and gloomy villa stood in the middle of the barren landscape, hidden from sight by a perched hedge. It was phenomenal and spectacular, but it makes it appear to have succumbed to a sullen and ominous atmosphere, both inside and out. A lanky hedge and gnarled shrubs give off the impression that the house has indeed been overlooked. The rainstorm seeping from the sewer pipes made the place appear miserable and dispirited. Needless to say, the house appeared razed to the ground and devoid of life. The house was made of rune stone that had been smeared darker in spots by downpours, sending it an insidious demeanor even during the day. The window frames were all padlocked and bricked up in steel frames and woods, as if what was inside would have been too grotesque to see, trying to give the impression that someone must have attempted to prevent something horrible from escaping. People have claimed that the residence was plagued by the witch who died there, but there has been no tangible evidence to substantiate their claims. It was even widely speculated that the villa was venomous and mowed down the leaves of trees that come into direct contact with its concrete pillars. People also construed a terrifying presumption that whoever tries to enter the house will never make it out alive because there is something inside that you would never dare to see with your very own eyes. Whatever was real or not, it was unmistakably foreshadowing, exponentially cold and savage at a hundredth of a thousand glances. A breathtaking doll sat competently on a rocking chair inside the house. Waiting complacently for someone brave and heroic enough to unravel the abominable and ghoulish mystery and paradox behind her enchanting, spine-chilling smile.